I was tempted to discourage him and tell him no, he was mistaken. But I was never one for airing false claims.
“I am, how are you, sir?” I held out my hand, and we shook.
“I’m fine, thanks for asking. Are you the baby boy? Wow, I never thought I’d be standing in line with a Rose.”
I frowned. “I assure you, we are no different than anyone else, no matter what you heard about us from others. And yes, I’m the youngest male. I do have three younger sisters.”
The man chuckled. “Yes, I’ve seen them too! Gorgeous they are.” I raised a brow, and the man nervously shuffled into his next words. “Hey, I’m Fred, and I’ll have to disagree with your last statement about being no different than anyone else, but it’s refreshing to know you’re humble.”
My frown increased. “Believe me, we are all just the same as you. A hardworking family trying to live the American Dream.”
Humor trod across Fred’s face. “Right.”
Our orders were ready at the same time, and we both moved forward to accept them. We strolled to the door, and I held it open for Fred and the older lady standing next to him.
“Oh,” Fred said, almost as an afterthought. “This is Shannon, my wife. Shannon, this is one of those Rose brothers.”
“Josiah,” I offered.
Shannon’s crinkled skin reddened as she blushed.
“It’s a good thing he wasn’t young in my day or Fred, Josiah would’ve given you a run for your money.”
I smiled, and Fred scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure Josiah dates only supermodels. Not that you couldn’t have pulled it off,” Fred retracted at Shannon’s glare. Fred cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he turned back to me, “we should get going. Have a good day, Josiah.”
I nodded as they walked through the door.
“Looks like you’ve got admirers.”
I turned to the sultry voice to find a woman exiting Panera Bread. Surprised by the height on her, my eyes took in her full-length. Although she wore heels, I had the feeling they weren’t the reason her height had been boosted to almost eye level with me. Quickly, I held out my hand and introduced myself.
“Josiah Alexander Rose.”
She smiled. “Mmm, I know who you are, Josiah.”
I arched an inquisitive brow.
“Everyone knows who you are.”
“Comes with the territory, I suppose,” I said.
“Certainly,” she responded. “I’m Tara Clemmons.”
Tara pulled out a business card and offered it to me. Being approached by women wasn’t new to me. What was unfamiliar was the hesitation I felt upon taking Tara’s business card. A half a second passed when Santana’s face flashed through my mind. Awkwardly, I found myself comparing Tara to Santana. To be frank, there was no comparison.
The first time I laid eyes on Santana, I’d taken a flight from Chicago to Houston at my brother Julian’s request. At the time, there had been some break-ins in the neighborhood of a friend’s, and Julian wanted me to keep an eye on Santana while he was out of the country.
Santana’s look was innocent; like that of a sweet teacher’s assistant in her gray knee-length corduroy skirt. My eyes rode her, inch by inch, over the creme button blouse, lingering around the suspenders that stretched across her nipples. The longer I held that position, the harder they became as I could see them protruding through the thin fabric. By the time I made it to her neck my tongue had reflexed and slid across my lips.
The brown skin that covered Santana appeared smooth and flawless. Her top lip was slightly smaller than her bottom. A nose sleek with the perfect bridge brought me to her eyes. Damn those eyes.
Dark brown and fierce like that of a feline. Those beautiful orbs held a fire inside that connected with me almost instantly. Santana’s proximity had affected my senses, giving me vibes of devotion and zealous allegiance. She was a beauty like no other, the type to make you stay around for all time. It was a blessing and a curse. Blessing me because if I believed in fate, I would’ve thought I'd discovered what most people never found in a lifetime.
My other half, in an instant it could’ve been her. But the joy didn't last because the cursing of it all was, I didn’t believe. I was a man who created his own destiny, and the absurdity that one woman could rock my world was nonsensical. In fact, at present, I wasn’t interested in anyone or anything that remotely suggested it. So why was the soul-stirring emotion that I felt raging inside of me? I should've backed out and disappeared without a greeting. I could’ve told my brother I’d send someone in my place. But that fire in her eyes encouraged me to stay. Then she took a step forward and held out her hand.
"Hello, I'm Santana."
Her throaty voice pulled me closer as my hand connected with hers for a shake.